


Padparadscha

by NervousAliceCurious



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen, Hospital, Mysterious Accident, Post-Surgery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-05
Updated: 2020-02-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:29:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22567852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NervousAliceCurious/pseuds/NervousAliceCurious
Summary: After a near-death incident, a patient finds himself alone in an abandoned hospital. Or is he?
Comments: 2
Kudos: 1





	Padparadscha

**Author's Note:**

> Cw: Blood, guts/bones, hospitals, surgery discussions, stalker/predatorial behavior. Death threats.
> 
> Please be careful, everyone!

For a minute, he forgot where he was.

He didn’t try to sit up-

He just lay there, taking stock of the white ceiling, and white walls.

‘…..How did I get here again?’

He thought for a few moments.

‘…………………………………………..’

Flashes of a sunny afternoon.

Clear skies, emerald trees..

Children laughing, chattering…

HELP US

He sat bolt upright in bed.

…………………………………………………………………………………………….

Everything was fine.

-

Padparadscha

-

‘…Is this…the hospital-a hospital-‘

He struggled to remember.

‘I’m sure the doctor will tell me everything…’

How long until they would show up, though?

‘I can’t…is it safe to sleep, or not?’

Sometimes, they say you’re not supposed to-

‘I really don’t want to be bored waiting’.

The patient bit his lip.

Ran a hand over the soft pajamas he’d been apparently put into while unconscious.

Bandages crinkled.

Curiosity knocked.

-Well it wouldn’t hurt to go to the bathroom, would it?

He slid one leg out of the sheets.

‘Don’t backfire on me, please…’

With a stuttery ‘flick’, the light turned on:

Someone else stood there, red hair disheveled around his shoulders, eyes tired.

He looked so pale…

‘…’

Disturbed, his fingers tugged at the neckline.

Pulling it down-

Yup.

He was right on the money about the bandages.

Zig-zagging in criss-crossing stripes over his rib cage.

‘What caused this?’

Probably that moment he couldn’t quite grasp in his mind.

‘I don’t want to mess with it-‘

Yet.

‘What kind of a wound even is it?’

He hadn’t noticed at first.

All of the other curtains weren’t drawn.

Row upon row of empty beds on both sides-

‘?’

Seemed a bit odd…

And come to think:

Where were the windows?

‘Weird’.

He could’ve slid back into bed.

But curiosity knocked harder.

_Would_ anyone be coming?

Or had they left already for some un-discernible reason?

Feeling a bit nervous ~~guilty~~ , he left.

The hallways were quiet.

The lights, lackluster.

Everything a grayish tint no matter how far you strained to see.

Stairs bare of activity, maybe everyone _did_ leave.

‘But why?’

-At least someone was still at the front desk.

“-Oh, hey-!”

“Hm?”

They looked up from a copy of _Athletes: Illustrated._

“…You can’t leave here without a pass”.

‘That’s…that’s immediately what he thinks?’

Had they _not_ noticed how empty the entire building was?

“…Um…I think it’s a little late”.

“Nope”.

Moving at a speed almost untraceable to the eye, they slapped their magazine onto the counter and retrieved a clipboard and outdated pen from some cavity in the wood.

**Click-**

“A., You can only get one from your doctor and B., most people don’t just try to walk out of here in their transparent nightwear”.

“-!”

…………He blushed.

“I…mean…I would…wear my clothes…if I knew where they were…’

“They’ll be up in your room-how do you not know that?”

‘It’s…not exactly what I came here to ask about’.

“-Does this place seem less…occupied to you?”

“I haven’t seen anyone come in since five this morning-“

“What time is it now?”

“Three in the morning”.

He blinked.

“Who came in at five?”

“Well, let me see”.

Pages flipping split the air.

“…..Someone referred by the Royal Court”.

His heart jumped.

“Why do you ask?”

‘…Was that me?’

“…Has anyone left?”

“Left?”

“Yes…”

They ran a thumb down the line of notations.

“Nope…”

“That doesn’t make any sense, there’s no one here but you and I”.

“Is that so?”

They didn’t sound like they believed him…

“Yes-if you want proof, go upstairs, it’s so silent and deserted you could hear a pin drop for miles”.

“…”

Their eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“…How do I know this isn’t a trick to lure me away from my desk?”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because you want to sneak out of here and go home”.

“I don’t know the way!”

“A likely story”.

“It’s true!”

He let out a huff.

“I’ve never been here before”.

“You seemed to find me pretty easily-“

“They have arrows!!”

“Okay, whatever you say”.

They stood up.

“If I find you gone by the time I get back, I will personally find out where you live”.

“…O…kay”.

‘Not creepy at all…’

“Or, better yet, you could come with me-“

“I’m…good”.

He rapped the wooden edge.

“Someone has to be here to check in new arrivals, right?”

Suspicious.

“Right?”

“Hmm…”

“I promise I won’t go anywhere”.

“Hmmmm….”

“Really”.

“Hmmmmmm…….”

‘At this rate, he’ll be here all day’.

“Tell you what”.

Rubber wheels squealed along the floor.

“You sit here”.

He did so.

“If this chair locks in place after _I_ sit in it…”

A slight push, and a crisp tumbling noise was heard.

“Then I will know you’ve been wandering, and there _will_ be issues.

Deal?”

“Deal…”

Slipping out to the front, the receptionist flipped their flashlight over their shoulder, and walked off.

Whistling all the while.

‘…..’

Alone.

‘………….’

In silence.

‘…………………’

In the half-dark.

‘………………………………’

...Well, it could be worse.

It could be a scenario straight out of a slasher flick with dead bodies everywhere.

‘I wonder how long he’ll take’.

Trying not to feel _too_ tempted to peek at his files, the patient shifted around uneasily.

‘This is kind-of creepy…’

-His bandages crinkled.

‘….’

How many files did that guy have on him anyway?

Curious, he ducked his head under the counter:

‘Oh wow’.

In short-

A lot.

‘……I shouldn’t do it. I should not do it-‘

But-

The. **Temptation.**

Won out every time.

Joy.

Mickey.

Wendy.

S.

Ye Ri.

Irene.

Emma.

Donn.

John Doe.

…..

He _had_ been completely out of it-

His fingers closed on the forbidden file.

‘….J.D. brought in at 0500. Pulse and heartbeat nearly non-existent, emergency procedure advised’.

‘-What did they do?’

He found the answer upon turning the page.

‘…’

His eyes widened.

‘….Sternum driven deep into the organ, must be removed as soon as possible. Will need extra runoff to repair the extensive damage-‘

And create a new synthetic pair of ribs.

Stomach flipped, adrenaline soared through the roof.

With pure, cold **fear.**

’N-no…no way. I must’ve read that wrong’.

‘….create a new synthetic pair of ribs…’

“No way”.

_“-Excuse_ you”.

He almost jumped completely out of his skin!

….Then shuddered.

The receptionist, condemning eyebrow raised, drummed their fingertips accusatorially upon the desk.

“I should have specified ’not going through my stuff’, as a condition of our agreement, too”.

“Sorry…”

“Mmhm. You should be”.

They snatched the file from his hands, and peered at it.

“H-hey! If _I_ can’t look-“

“John Doe, huh?”

“No…”

“Well naturally. They’d keep it protected for ‘interest to the Royal Court’ purposes”.

“I’m not that interesting”.

He frowned.

“…Do they really do implants here?”

“Implants?”

“Like…like for bones”.

He shuddered _harder._

The chair whacked off the wooden surface, causing a loud echo.

He **froze-**

“There’s no one here, by the way”.

“Wh-what?”

“I looked this place from top to bottom; I found nothing and nobody”.

“…..So you believe me now”.

“Yeah…”

“Why do you not sound freaked out?”

“Because I find the idea of someone randomly raiding my drawers even scarier”.

The patient winced.

“You didn’t find anything that could’ve made them all disappear, either?”

“Nope”.

“….That’s so weird”.

“Mmhm…”

“Alright, out-“

He was barely able to keep himself from being ejected into the desk.

“Did you have to do that so abruptly?”

“Ahh…”

The receptionist leaned back, and put their arms behind their head, completely ignoring the indignant question.

“Finally”.

‘…..I can’t believe this’.

“I’m going back upstairs-“

“Yeah, you do that”.

‘Note To Self: Don’t go that way again when you’re getting out of here’.

There they were:

His clothes.

Tucked away in a plastic bag, and **reeking** of blood.

‘Ugh…’

Couldn’t the doctors or nurses or whomever have spared a few minutes to clean them?

Or something?

‘Never mind…’

The bag flopped onto the side table exactly as he’d discovered it.

‘……’

Emergency procedure advised.

Sweat beaded on his brow at the very thought-

‘…..!’

When he was a child, he’d used to have nightmares of deboned fish.

He couldn’t stop trembling.

He only stood in front of the mirror.

‘I have to know but I don’t want to know-‘

He couldn’t bring himself to take off his shirt.

‘I’m gonna have to find out sometime-‘

He swallowed.

Took a quick breath-

Cold air met his shoulders, and he _shivered._

The bandages were relatively free of any tell-tale signs (blood stains) that he had ever been…operated on at all.

‘It looks good, but-‘

How could he be sure?

‘Please don’t let it be true…’

Picking at the sticky end with a nervous finger, he managed to get it up enough.

‘Oh boy. Moment of truth’.

-The sting hit him like a _truck._

Biting his tongue so he wouldn’t cry out on impulse, he tugged the long strip as free as he could.

A glint of orange.

Streaks of coral-red-

‘No’.

He felt chills of pure horror rush down his spine.

’N-no, they did it…’

At touch, freezing smooth.

Solid-rock.

Not quite.

’S-solid…’

_Padparadscha._

His back hit the doorframe.

His namesake-

‘How did-how could they even-!?’

Extra runoff.

The words floated in his ears…

To repair the extensive damage.

‘I’ve gotta be dreaming’.

Gulping down a wave of panic, that was what he came up with.

‘Except it feels too real-‘

-He hurriedly tamped down the bandage.

‘And it worked?’

Laugh or cry?

‘…I have to get out of here. Get this fixed-‘

Heart thumping (banging against the jewel, to his chagrin), he tugged on his shirt again.

Past the fifth floor elevator, a secret stairwell.

He’d noticed it on his way to the ground level.

‘No pass, hopefully, this’ll make it no problem’.

Hopefully.

Being careful not to step on any particularly creaky spots, the patient snuck from 5 to 4, 4 to 3, 3 to 2, and 2 to 1-

Arms grabbed him out of nowhere.

‘What the-!?’

He shoved whoever it was away, but not before something with considerable weight smacked into his ribs.

As a hardness of 9, they didn’t crack.

They did, however, vibrate intensely enough to unnerve him.

Throw him off balance-

He would’ve gotten up, if he hadn’t been staring right into the barrel of a taser.

*

Consciousness returned.

His head ached.

His chest was on _fire-_

Resisting the urge to vomit, he blinked past white flaring stars.

He was sitting in a familiar chair.

Wrists bound behind him, ankles strapped to the legs.

“You awake?”

“….”

“Nice to meet a fellow patient. You have a name?”

…Rather than give this person what they wanted, he strained at the ropes instead.

“Should’ve just relied on Darrell to kick your butt. Silly goose”.

-The receptionist?

Was he-

“You have a name?”

He refused to answer that.

-Footsteps behind him.

He quickly clasped his hands in an effort to appear as innocent as possible-

“…Let…me…guess”.

He knew _exactly_ where they were looking.

“You are the Mystery Guy from 5 AM”.

‘Just…move…’

“What did you end up in for?”

‘Darn it…!’

This ‘fellow patient’ must've been intending to stand there forever.

A hand that wasn’t his reached for the bandages.

“Leave those alone!!”

“There we go…”

He glared.

“Gutted like a fish, were you?”

“No”.

“Then what?”

“Why does it matter? You have no right to keep me here”.

“Just want to know what I’m dealing with”.

“What for? Are you the reason the hospital is empty?”

“Smart”.

They made another reach.

As much as he was allowed, he leaned away.

“-But no. It wasn’t my fault”.

“Then-how-“

“I don’t know…all _I_ did was find a cute redhead in the bed next to mine”.

‘Ew. **No.** Just-‘

“Which one are you”, he said flatly.

“Mickey”.

He’d seen that profile.

Okay-

“Am I supposed to be the redhead?”

“Only one in the entire building”.

He grinned.

“Guess I should thank my lucky stars that girl broke my crotch”.

-In any other circumstance, he would be glad.

“Now c’mon….”

Another. Reach.

“What are these about?”

“They’re called ‘stop’”.

He knocked the chair over.

Pain whooshed up his side from where it connected with the floor, but he paid it no mind.

Ripping his hands loose, the guy shoved the piece of stolen furniture up-

A **CLONK.**

Mickey fell-

Darrell’s chair had lost a few bars in the impact.

‘I’m sure they’ll understand’.

If they were still alive.

They had to be still alive-

Rubbing sore ankles, he held what was left as a shield.

“Don’t come near me”.

The would-be creeper grimaced.

“Geez…I-“

“SAVE IT”.

Satisfaction ran through him at the other’s twitch of fear.

“I will **kill** you if you continue to make me feel unsafe”.

“You?”

From the corner of his eye, he could see him inching for the-

**WHACK.**

Bone breakage.

The arm twinged and then popped _inward._

He suppressed a shudder of revulsion this time, rather than outright fear.

“-!”

Mickey’s ice-blues were the size of dinner plates.

Clutching what was left _now_ of the chair, the patient backed out of the room.

He didn’t stop until his spine touched a bar, which pushed in slightly at the even slighter pressure-

And the Emergency Exit/EMT Entrance cracked open to freedom.

-

Shaking.

He was-

Stumbling over his own feet.

The past ten minutes catching up to his frazzling nerves-

Dark sky.

No stars.

A pencil-thin plane of obsidian stretching far into the horizon.

‘Where-where even-‘

His home was the polar opposite of such monochrome.

It was jarring.

The only sign of habitation in sight the rising building behind.

Ten feet later, and he was on his knees.

Stress washing over his entire body.

A few stray tears escaping down his cheeks.

Registered too late-

He quickly wiped them away.

’Where even is this!?’

Didn’t want to think of-

‘I didn’t think-‘

It would look like this.

Otherwise-

‘I…didn’t think. Did I?’

Darrell would’ve been a _great_ person to ask for directions.

Assuming that sicko hadn't-

**Didn’t** want to think of it.

‘I **hate** people like him’.

-

Foot steps.

He tensed.

“Padparadscha?”

‘Who's-?’

He looked up from the black mirror beneath his feet.

“Are you lost?”

**Author's Note:**

> OS


End file.
